Maybe what the old guy said about painting did have something to do with the Blood on the Tracks record. But basically, that whole period has been blown out of proportion by people writing about that record. I could have picked up things in that class, but it was sort of an advanced class, and I wasn't on the same level as most of the others. What he tried to pound into your head was painting the light, and the model looked different from every angle in the room. The thing was to paint the light, whatever your perspective was, and the figure would fall into place. I wasn't too successful at that, and I spent a lot of time cleaning my brushes and getting my paints muddy. It was frustrating. He wanted you to do that with only a few colors and white with lead in it. Then he'd go around the room critiquing everybody's work, in a personal way. Devastating critiques. Extremely loud and shocking. Embarrassing. He could get to the heart of the matter in no time, and tell all about a person by seeing their work. He told some people that they were murderers, thieves, charlatans, and a lot worse. I dreaded him looking over my shoulder. And when he did it, it was horrible. He asked me why I wanted to paint in the first place. I couldn't think of anything to say, so I told him I wanted to replicate life, and he became quite angry. Like, "What makes you think life needs to be replicated?" He told me I was self-centered, and a real artist is anything but that. After a couple of those sessions, I don't think I went back. I think I was a poor student, and I never did grasp how to paint the light. But it was a privilege to be there. The man was a force of nature.

Maybe what the old guy said about painting did have something to do with the Blood on the Tracks record. But basically, that whole period has been blown out of proportion by people writing about that record. I could have picked up things in that class, but it was sort of an advanced class, and I wasn't on the same level as most of the others. What he tried to pound into your head was painting the light, and the model looked different from every angle in the room. The thing was to paint the light, whatever your perspective was, and the figure would fall into place. I wasn't too successful at that, and I spent a lot of time cleaning my brushes and getting my paints muddy. It was frustrating. He wanted you to do that with only a few colors and white with lead in it. Then he'd go around the room critiquing everybody's work, in a personal way. Devastating critiques. Extremely loud and shocking. Embarrassing. He could get to the heart of the matter in no time, and tell all about a person by seeing their work. He told some people that they were murderers, thieves, charlatans, and a lot worse. I dreaded him looking over my shoulder. And when he did it, it was horrible. He asked me why I wanted to paint in the first place. I couldn't think of anything to say, so I told him I wanted to replicate life, and he became quite angry. Like, "What makes you think life needs to be replicated?" He told me I was self-centered, and a real artist is anything but that. After a couple of those sessions, I don't think I went back. I think I was a poor student, and I never did grasp how to paint the light. But it was a privilege to be there. The man was a force of nature.

Interesting. So here he's saying he only attended two sessions. Raeben must have been ladling out some pretty strong medicine then, for Dylan to elsewhere claim that on his return 'my wife never did understand me, ever since that day'.

'Another threat to Bob & Sara's relationship came in the spring of 1974 when Bob attended an art class at a studio in Carnegie Hall, New York. The class was conducted by Norman Raeben, a seventy-three year old painter who had a commanding presence and acerbic tongue. "You see this vase?" he asked Bob one day. He whipped the vase away. "Draw it!" As Bob started to draw he had realised he had looked at the vase but not really seen it. This was an important lesson in art and also a perspective that he might apply to life in general.

Norman did not know who Bob was when they first met. "Raeben thought he had no money and thought he was a poor kid. Bob was taking this stuff very seriously and working at it and Raeben liked him quite a lot," says mutual friend Jacques Levy. Raeben became concerned that his scruffy student might not have a place to stay, and said Bob could sleep in the studio in return for cleaning up. The misunderstanding endeared Bob to the old man. "Bob really likes the the idea that people don't really know who he is, or don't respond to him in that starry-eyed, awestruck way," says Levy. Indeed, Bob became infatuated with the painter, later describing him as "more powerful than any magician." The infatuation seemed to cause problems with his marriage. "I went home after that and my wife never did understand me ever since that day," he said. "That's when our marriage started breaking up. She never knew what I was talking about. And I couldn't possibly explain it."

Maybe what the old guy said about painting did have something to do with the Blood on the Tracks record. But basically, that whole period has been blown out of proportion by people writing about that record. I could have picked up things in that class, but it was sort of an advanced class, and I wasn't on the same level as most of the others. What he tried to pound into your head was painting the light, and the model looked different from every angle in the room. The thing was to paint the light, whatever your perspective was, and the figure would fall into place. I wasn't too successful at that, and I spent a lot of time cleaning my brushes and getting my paints muddy. It was frustrating. He wanted you to do that with only a few colors and white with lead in it. Then he'd go around the room critiquing everybody's work, in a personal way. Devastating critiques. Extremely loud and shocking. Embarrassing. He could get to the heart of the matter in no time, and tell all about a person by seeing their work. He told some people that they were murderers, thieves, charlatans, and a lot worse. I dreaded him looking over my shoulder. And when he did it, it was horrible. He asked me why I wanted to paint in the first place. I couldn't think of anything to say, so I told him I wanted to replicate life, and he became quite angry. Like, "What makes you think life needs to be replicated?" He told me I was self-centered, and a real artist is anything but that. After a couple of those sessions, I don't think I went back. I think I was a poor student, and I never did grasp how to paint the light. But it was a privilege to be there. The man was a force of nature.

Interesting. So here he's saying he only attended two sessions. Raeben must have been ladling out some pretty strong medicine then, for Dylan to elsewhere claim that on his return 'my wife never did understand me, ever since that day'.

Dylan's totally downplaying it now. Typical covering of his (blood on the) tracks....

Raeben must have been ladling out some pretty strong medicine then, for Dylan to elsewhere claim that on his return 'my wife never did understand me, ever since that day'.

Well, my two cents on the whole Raeben/Dylan thing-

It was just old crackpot meets young crackpot.

Dylan probably inflated the 'lessons' (philosophical/artistic) by Raeben into something deeper,most likely because Dylan was infatuated by the idea of a guy doling out theories/principles/etc. who didn't give a hoot about who he (Dylan) was. So anybody who isn't blinded by the Dylan charisma/persona is most likely aces in Bob's book.

As for the 'my wife never did understand me' thing that Bob claimed - it's a nice buffer to distract from the real marital problems that were occurring, most likely. It's a little disingenuous and slightly contemptuous of his wife for 'not getting it'. That's like saying, "I went to Arthur Murray Dance Classes, and when I came home and tried to teach my wife the foxtrot, my marriage began to unravel around that time."

Joined: Wed June 6th, 2007, 15:58 GMTPosts: 11483Location: in the land where dreams are made....

bottle of bread wrote:

Train-I-Ride wrote:

Raeben must have been ladling out some pretty strong medicine then, for Dylan to elsewhere claim that on his return 'my wife never did understand me, ever since that day'.

Well, my two cents on the whole Raeben/Dylan thing-

It was just old crackpot meets young crackpot.

Dylan probably inflated the 'lessons' (philosophical/artistic) by Raeben into something deeper,most likely because Dylan was infatuated by the idea of a guy doling out theories/principles/etc. who didn't give a hoot about who he (Dylan) was. So anybody who isn't blinded by the Dylan charisma/persona is most likely aces in Bob's book.

As for the 'my wife never did understand me' thing that Bob claimed - it's a nice buffer to distract from the real marital problems that were occurring, most likely. It's a little disingenuous and slightly contemptuous of his wife for 'not getting it'. That's like saying, "I went to Arthur Murray Dance Classes, and when I came home and tried to teach my wife the foxtrot, my marriage began to unravel around that time."

That line is very funny.... although I am not sure you really meant it that way.....

The fact of the matter is that something happened to him..... his was not writing up to the speed he was... (although there is quite a lot from the Woodstock time that I just love.... JWH for example).... and then something clicked and out pops BOTT.... as to the comments about the wife never understanding him again........ I think that Bob was a mid-west boy that really was heading into life expecting to have one wife .... for life .... and was rather stunned that it didn't work out that way .... then add to that he really rather not be talking about the whole thing publicly.... you just have to give all the comments at that time a bit of slack.... and to all of you younger ones.... as in younger than him, which is almost all of us.... views were different then .... I bet he really was a bit surprised that she would divorce him over other women.... she was well taken care of ... had a house full of kids ........ and at that time many women married to famous or powerful or rich men just put up with that......... In todays world you divorce 'em or kill 'em... then you just put up with 'em..... it was a different time..... I think that whole time threw him for more of a loop than is possible to understand today....

It takes two to fight. Maybe she was no longer in love with him, and the feeling was mutual with Bob; maybe she knew that she could be a very wealthy woman and have her freedom at the same time. Who knows what was going on with their marriage, but I doubt if art classes could break up a good marriage.

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